


Wires

by shutter_waves_break



Series: Fanmix Playlist Fics [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-08
Updated: 2013-07-08
Packaged: 2017-12-18 02:29:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/874629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shutter_waves_break/pseuds/shutter_waves_break
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles steps into a trap not meant for him and almost dies. Derek saves him and overhears Stiles make a confession of sorts. This leads to mixed messages and confused emotions on both their parts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wires

**Author's Note:**

> I had AsadMinQamar read through the story and give me feedback on being canon-compliant regarding a few situations. I've only made it through Season 1 and tumblr has kind of become my friend in trying to keep things as close to the story line as possible. OBVIOUSLY the storyline has been messed with and some situations have been altered to fit my story world because otherwise this wouldn't have happened. I have not written anything this long in three sittings in AGES. Let alone for one long story rather than breaking it up into smaller parts. Asad also told me if I didn't end this on a happy note, she would break me in half.  
> Please forgive any mistakes you may probably find, grammar, spelling, other stuff. I got about 3/4 of the way through proofing and exhausted myself.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy :)

I have wires where my veins should run beneath my skin.

Hooked to my heart and keeping it beating.

~ ~ # ~ ~ # ~ ~ 

It didn’t hurt anymore. Well, it still hurt but the pain was not in the forefront of Stiles’ mind. His fingers and toes tingled, probably because he was hemorrhaging blood as he lay there thinking about how his extremities tingled. But the pain receded, so really all he had left to think about was how much it sucked laying on this concrete floor. He was too tired to turn his head to try and figure out where his phone fell, or how much blood had pooled under him. Had to be a fair amount. He knew the human body could lose roughly a third of its blood before losing function. His function wasn’t working to well since he couldn’t even push himself up. Maybe he could try and roll over onto his stomach -

Stabbing pains electrified his body. His throat clenched trying to keep rising bile from choking him to death (because choking is a shitty way to go). Scratch that idea. Bright lights flared behind his eyelids and he concentrated on breathing. 

Breathing. In. And out. He remembered reading somewhere that monks practiced how to slow their heart rate down so their bodies almost went into a kind of stasis. Maybe he could do that. Maybe it would mean he could hold on a little bit longer so someone would find him and take him to a hospital. Where his dad would undoubtedly kill him once he was out of surgery. He would have to warn the doctors and nurses not to let his dad in without an armed guard to protect Stiles from his wrath.  

Who was he kidding? He could barely sit still in class long enough to get a paragraph of notes. How could he possibly slow his heart rate down enough to put his body into a self-induced monk coma?

In. And out.  

Didn’t mean he couldn’t try though.  

Stiles counted the metal bars on the high ceiling. It felt like the room was spinning a little. Probably from the lack of oxygen getting to his heart and brain. Oh yeah, maybe the blood loss. He tried to wiggle his fingers on his left hand. They wiggled, and there was no immediate discomfort. He tried his right and a dull ache pulsed to his shoulder. He tried shifting his legs a little but decided it was not a bright idea since bright lights went off behind his now clenched eyelids. Who knew wolfsbane bullets would hurt humans like they hurt werewolves. Not Stiles. But he supposed a bullet was a bullet, and whoever shot him was waiting for a werewolf, not a Stiles.  

Why the hell did he have to come all the way out here and not tell anyone?  

Because everyone would have tried to stop him. And he was Stiles fucking-Stilinski. One did not simply say NO to Stiles. 

He chuckled at his reference, only mildly upset he hadn’t had an audience to vocalize it to. Hopefully when his body was finally found, his friends would tell cool stories about him, not the stupid ones like how he was crushing on Derek Hale and basically threw himself at the guy when Stiles thought he was going to die from the wolfsbane bullet but didn’t and then it all just went to hell because he realized he really really liked the stupid werewolf.  

Derek Hale. Derek ‘Sex on legs’ Hale. Derek ‘I’m a broody werewolf’ Hale. Derek ‘I’ll rip your throat out with my teeth’ Hale. Derek ‘I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t walk straight for days’ Hale. Derek ‘Sourwolf’ Hale.

Stiles wasn’t helping his coma project by thinking of Derek Hale. 

Fucking Derek. He wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for Derek. But no, he had to go against every instinct regarding the dangerous supernatural shit out there and try to find a way to prevent Derek from being killed by the Alpha pack and instead got himself in this fucking predicament and fucking hell. If he could lift his head he would have probably tried to slam it back down against the floor to knock himself-

_BZZZ. BZZZ. BZZZ._

Phone?!

Stiles thought he felt the vibration close to his right hand. Great, the one he could hardly move. It took every ounce of effort to shift his head, choking down a gag reflex, and sure enough there it was. His beautiful phone buzzing gracefully about four inches from his right hand. All he had to do was slide his hand up, grab it, and call whoever was trying to call him. 

Much easier said than done.  

He lay there for about twenty seconds before deciding the easiest thing to do, and most painful, would be to dig his heels into the ground and push himself up. He took a deep breath and shut his eyes, focusing on swiftly positioning his feet on the floor, knees bent, heels planted.  

“FUUUCK!” 

Tears ran down his dirt-stained cheeks and he bit his lower lip hard trying to stop himself from crying out even more.  

Another deep breath. And PUSH.  

It would be funny if it didn’t hurt so fucking much. He would never ever make jokes about childbirth again because at this point he would take giving birth over this. His shirt ripped and it felt like the skin on his back was being peeled off, his pelvic bone blazed with heat, his legs felt like lead, his tongue felt fat in his mouth, the back of his head scraped the rough floor. 

Maybe death wasn’t such a bad alternative. He was fairly sure he would get into heaven given that he hadn’t ever killed anyone, or cheated with his neighbor’s wife, or worshipped a false god (unless that god was Derek then maybe, but God had to have a sense of humor because DEREK). 

When he finally was able to open his eyes again and try to focus on his hand, the phone sat millimeters away.  

 _BZZZ. BZZZ. BZZZ._  

The worst being over, he twisted his hand to grab the phone (the pain was almost welcome because it meant he wasn’t dreaming). 

_Five missed calls: Scott. Dad. Scott. Dad. Derek._

Derek? 

He didn’t know who to call. Of course this would be his biggest dilemma; not the bleeding out but the wondering who to call because all of them were equally horrifying. Scott might call Allison and ask her if her family was responsible. Dad would…be dad. And Derek. Why would Derek be calling him? It was past midnight. Scott probably called Derek and asked him if he knew where Stiles was. 

He dialed Derek. Because he got shot with wolfsbane bullets and who better to deal with it than Derek who has had tremendous amounts of experience with this stuff. Not because Stiles just wanted to see his face before he died. Nope. 

“Stiles, where the fuck are you?! Scott keeps calling me and I swear if he tells Allison you’re missing her family is going to come after me and so help me I will kill you if you aren’t already dead!”

Stiles snorted, but it must have sounded like a grunt of excruciating pain because Derek stopped.

“Where are you, Stiles?”

Stiles swallowed. “Mill. Shot. Hurts.” He could talk, but he didn’t want to waste precious moments trying to explain. Better just get the important stuff said. 

Derek didn’t hang up, but he must have put the phone his pocket because it sounded like he was running. Stiles could hear the pounding of his feet across leaves? Dirt? Gravel? He had no idea. Knowing Derek hadn’t hung up on him made him feel better. At least he could focus on that sound instead of the silence. 

He started to get sleepy. Derek didn’t say where he was, or how long it was going to take to get there. Would he get there before Stiles passed out? His body would start to shut down in order to preserve whatever function was left. He hoped lungs and heart would go last, at least he could stay alive long enough to get to a hospital. He tried to swallow and found a hard lump in his throat, in his chest.  

Stiles didn’t want to die on this stupid floor, alone, and afraid. Because fuck he was scared. He wondered if this was how his mom felt when she died. If she felt alone even though her family, even though Stiles were there for her, with her.  

“I’m sorry, mom… I’m so sorry…” Hot tears started running down the sides of his face, into his ears, into his hair. He was sorry he couldn’t take care of his dad, couldn’t take care of her, couldn’t even take care of himself. He drew in a choked breath, and felt a peaceful calm settle over him. He felt warm, the way he used to feel when his mom would wake up extra early when she was sick to make him his favorite breakfast, or stay up late with him when he was stuck doing homework at night because he couldn’t focus during the day. She would make room on her bed and Stiles would sit with her, explaining what he was doing so he could focus. His mom rubbed her hand down his back and nodded, smiling when he got the right answer, and beaming when he came home with an A the next day after a test.  

His eyes started to close, phone clutched in his hand. He couldn’t hear Derek anymore, couldn’t hear anything. He felt his chest rising and falling, he felt the floor turn mushy under his back, he saw his mom’s face over his and he felt a smile break out across his face. 

“Hi mom.” He wanted to reach up and touch her face but he couldn’t move his arm. “I missed you.”

She didn’t say anything. She just kept smiling at him, like he was the perfect child because he was HER perfect child. All the kids might tease him because he ran at a mile a minute all the time, but she said it made him special because he would always be able to do more. And when he was able to focus it would be like a laser. All the other kids would struggle trying to keep one thought straight, and Stiles could keep it all in his head. He just needed to learn how to focus it more.

“I love you.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

It would be cliche to say it all went black because it didn’t really go black. Everything got soft and there were fireworks like he was back on the school roof setting off fireworks a year after his mom died to show her the pretty lights. He got grounded for a month and suspended for a week but he didn’t care. No one was hurt, and if there was a smoke stain on the roof, no one cared. Not like he burned the building down. 

The fireworks were nice, and then they became a row of soft white lights, and there was a steady beeping that made him think of his heart. Steady like the monk coma. He was in a monk coma, and that was ok. 

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Stiles came to three days later, so he was told by everyone who came in to his hospital room to watch him sleep. He spent almost 6 hours in surgery, then he was transferred to the ICU for 24 hours under observation, then moved to the burn ward because it was a more sterile environment. Stiles thinks his dad had something to do with that, but he doesn’t want to say anything. He really hasn’t said much since he woke up, much to everyone’s surprise and chagrin. The doctors weren’t asking a ton of questions, neither was his dad. For now anyway. Stiles knows EXACTLY what is going to happen to him once he gets moving and talking beyond the response to simple questions.  

He takes a survey of his body once visiting hours are over and the nurses have stopped prodding him and giving him antibiotics. Four bullet holes, slight concussion, appendectomy, slight fever, no broken bones. The no broken bones part blew Stiles’ mind, he thought for sure something would be fractured or shattered, but since he got his appendix taken out it was probably a fair trade. He hated casts.  

Once he figured out how long he was going to have to stay, he started thinking about all the things he could tell his dad about what he was doing to get shot at four times and have to be rescued by Derek. 

Derek. Shit. He was probably catching all kinds of crap from everyone, especially Sheriff Stilinski. And the Argents because they wouldn’t believe hunters would shoot a human. Because Derek would obviously shoot him with wolfsbane bullets to make it look like a hunter did it. Since he woke up, he hadn’t seen or heard from Derek. And he didn’t want to ask Scott or his dad or Isaac or anyone else that had been by to see him. Especially not Allison. Lydia came by to see him with some of his favorite homemade brownies. He hadn’t been able to eat one yet, doctor’s orders, but he could smell them and they smelled delicious.  

But no Derek.  

Stiles’ dad gave him his phone back, fully charged, and talked with him a little about work and when the doctors expected he could be released. Probably a week, he said. Then strict bed-rest for a few days followed by limited activity, which Stiles’ dad would be taking time off work for. And Scott’s mom said she would come by the house to help out. It felt like the entire neighborhood was on board with ‘Stiles duty’. 

Except Derek.  

Scott said Derek called once he’d found Stiles and told him to meet him at the hospital with Stiles’ dad. Once Stiles was safely in the hands of doctors and surgeons, Derek disappeared. Scott said he’d texted a few times to see how Stiles was doing, and once he’d woken up the texts had pretty much stopped except to keep him updated on who or what was waiting in the old mill. Stiles’ dad didn’t really say anything about it except he was damn glad Derek found him and was able to think straight and get him help. He didn’t go as far to say that he owed the guy a beer, or six, since Derek was still technically a ‘suspicious person’ but Stiles could tell his dad was just grateful. 

Stiles felt like a complete asshole. The drugs weren’t helping either. Thinking about being in the hospital reminded him of his mom and how everyone would come and visit. He felt the same way. He wondered if she was watching him now, if she was the reason he was still alive, if she guided Derek and kept Stiles alive long enough to get to the hospital and on the operating table.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

 

The week went by faster than Stiles would have thought. People came and went, he finally got to eat his brownies which he promptly shared with the hospital staff, and forgot about how Derek never came by until he got home and stared at the space behind his door where Derek normally waited to scare the shit out of Stiles. 

After four days of being mother-henned by everyone under the sun, and the completely embarrassing sponge baths he got from Scott’s mom, he was left alone for a few hours in the middle of the day after being given his normal pain pills to nap. But sleep was the last thing on Stiles’ mind. His dad still hadn’t had his major freakout and put Stiles on lockdown; he’d probably wait until Stiles got better before forcing him into a monastery with a mandatory vow of silence for the rest of his life. 

He was shifting on his bed trying to get comfortable enough to pull out his laptop when a thud nearly caused him to fall out of bed, and he forgot he couldn’t twist and pain happened. When he finally opened his eyes and got himself situated, there was a broody looking wolf standing in his room. 

“Hi.” Derek looked like shit. Like shit on the bottom of a mack truck tire after a head on collision with another mack truck. So Stiles told him because no one said he wasn’t allowed to speak his mind. And drugs. And bullet wounds.  

Derek’s expression softened a little bit before he looked at Stiles’ chair and back at Stiles.  

Stiles shrugged and went back to rearranging himself waiting for Derek to speak. He felt his pillows shift and realized Derek was leaned over him and fixing his pillows. When their eyes met, Derek jerked up and stepped back like he was caught doing something he shouldn’t. Not like Stiles needed his help now after a little over two weeks of radio silence.  

“Thanks,” he muttered, despite wanting to remain silent and broody given his current mood. But it was Derek, and he was in his room looking absolutely wrecked. Stiles took small comfort in letting himself believe he was wrought with grief over Stiles’ predicament. Stiles met Derek’s dark eyes again and saw a faint glimmer of relief before schooling his features and sitting stiffly down in the chair.  

Stiles played with the comforter, wanting Derek to break the silence. He didn’t have to wait long.  

“I’m sorry I bailed after I left you at the hospital. I had to go back to the mill and help Erica and Isaac search for whoever-“ _Shot you._ That much went unsaid. Like it pained Derek to say it. Like it was his fault Stiles was in a bad way.  

“What did you find?” Stiles asked, not looking up.

Derek cleared his throat. “Not much. Whoever they were they traveled light, definitely hunters. I think they were hunting the Alpha pack while the Alpha pack was hunting us, I mean, me, and you just kind of got caught in the cross fire.” 

Stiles scoffed, it hurt a little. “I tend to do that, get caught in the cross fire.”

Derek leaned forward. “What were you doing there, Stiles? You knew that place was dangerous. You knew I wouldn’t have let you go by yourself.”

Stiles looked up at that. Derek said _I_ , like HE was trying to protect Stiles personally. “I didn’t want to tell you because I knew what you guys would say. But I guess I proved to be a liability. And here I am,” he responded, gesturing to his overall state of affairs. “At least I didn’t break anything, besides my dignity.”

“You could have DIED, Stiles! You could have died and I-“ Derek’s eyes flashed red before he leaned back and cut himself off. He took a deep breath. Stiles felt tears prickle in his eyes, his face got flushed. He didn’t want to cry in front of Derek. Stupid fucking pills. Stupid Stiles. Change the subject.

“You smell like dirt. Have you showered lately?”

Stiles felt the mood shift, and he could almost feel the embarrassment creep into Derek’s voice. “Haven’t really thought about it. I ran through a stream, if that counts.”

Stiles laughed at that. “A stream? Very wolf of you.” Smiling hurt his muscles a little bit, but at least he didn’t feel like crying in front of the most beautiful man on the planet. Even if he smelled like dirt. And hot tar. And grass. 

Derek rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “I suppose so.” Their eyes met again and neither of them felt inclined to move. Derek opened his mouth to say something at the same time Stiles did. Then Derek looked away at his half open bedroom door. “Your dad is on his way back. I should go.”

“Um, yeah. Not that he’s not grateful for everything but I don’t think he wants to see you right now. At least, not until I’m mobile and grounded for eternity,” Stiles said. 

Derek stood up and made his way back to the window, throwing a very Derek look over his shoulder. “Like being grounded ever stopped you from doing anything you shouldn’t.” 

“Sourwolf’s got jokes I see. You will be pleased to know that I have learned my lesson. I’m done trying to sneak around. Being shot does that. I can’t recover like you can.” 

The joking look left Derek’s face and was replaced with something Stiles couldn’t quite name. It didn’t scare him really, but it looked like anxious curiosity.  

“What you said, when I found you… Who were you talking to?” His hands were braced on the window sill, eyes locked on Stiles’ face. 

“Uh, I don’t really know. I thought I saw my mom, but she didn’t say anything. I don’t really remember. I remember being on the phone with you. I heard you running, you didn’t hang up. I think that helped keep me grounded, no pun intended,” he chuckled, but it sounded harsh even to his ears. “But I heard you, and then I started to get really tired. Then I guess you found me and the rest is history.”

Derek’s face looked like it fell a little bit, but his eyes still kept a soft glow Stiles thought looked hopeful. “Oh.”

“Oh? That’s it?”  

“I just… you said-“ 

Footsteps on the stairs cut Derek off, and he was out the window before Stiles could ask if he was coming back. He slid down his bed a little to make it look like he just woke up as his dad opened the door all the way.  

“Hey kid. Get any sleep?” His dad sounded tired. He wished he wasn’t such a burden. 

Stiles yawned. “A little.” He looked at his dad’s face and decided. “Can we talk now? I feel like I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop and I can’t handle the waiting.” He wanted to keep going but his dad held up a hand. 

“Let me take off my jacket and bring up some food. This may take a while.” He didn’t sound angry, upset, disappointed, or sad. He sounded _relieved._  

“Yeah, ok dad. I’ll be here,” he said, throwing in a typical Stiles wink for good measure. His dad smiled softly. 

“I know you will, kiddo. I know.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

The talk with his dad went surprisingly well. Even Stiles had to admit he was scared his dad was possessed by something and had to resist the urge to throw holy water on him. Not that he had any within reach but he would have made an effort to scramble to get it out of his closet. One could never be too careful. 

His dad wasn’t all THAT angry at Stiles. Angry that he was an idiot and did things without thinking about the ramifications and how others would be affected. He wasn’t really disappointed either. He told Stiles that Derek had helped out some, taking the cops to the mill where he found Stiles. Police were able to gather some evidence. Derek was being helpful, but he kept looking worse every day they searched for more clues, like he wasn’t sleeping. So the sheriff sent him away. Derek was off the ‘suspicious persons’ list for this since he had been helpful and had been subjected to interviews. He had an alibi: the Argents, go figure. Stiles presumed it was because if the Argents hadn’t shot Stiles, it meant other hunters had and the hunter rules stated one group couldn’t hunt on another’s territory without permission. Clearly, this new group didn’t follow the same rules.  

Stiles didn’t really believe the Argents were Derek’s alibi but he wasn’t about to contradict that. Derek out of the spotlight meant no sneaking around.  

Stiles was REALLY surprised when he found out he wasn’t going to be grounded for longer than a couple of weeks past his recovery time, or sent to a monastery, which once voiced made his dad laugh to near hysterical levels. Stiles would have joined in if he didn’t hurt so much every time he tried anything above a chuckle.  

“Your punishment is enduring this debilitating situation you’re in. Especially the sponge baths provided by Scott’s mother. And the fact you can’t really wipe your own-“

“DAD! Please! The neighbors might hear you!!” It was embarrassing enough to know that Scott’s mom has seen him completely naked, and once with a boner when he started thinking about Derek giving him a sponge bath. To her credit, she didn’t say anything, but she did remove herself by saying she needed more towels and gave Stiles enough time to take care of his issue. They hadn’t spoken of it since, and now Stiles is VERY CAREFUL around her. VERY. 

His dad chuckled. Stiles smiled. It was nice to see his dad laughing.  

“Stiles, I really want to believe you have learned your lesson. We will find the people who hurt you, and brooding over what might have happened does no one any good. After your mom-“

“Dad.” Stiles didn’t want to talk about his mom. Not now.  

He held up his hands. “Ok, I know. I’m just saying, Stiles. Derek did a great thing, finding you and bringing you back. You’ve done some ridiculously ridiculous things in the past, and this one overshadows all of them. But you’re my son, my only child, and your being alive is more important than anything. Just promise me, as my flesh and blood, you will not ever do anything remotely dangerous, hazardous, stupid, perilous, unsafe, risky, and all the other variations thereof. Otherwise I will send you to a silent monastery.” 

Stiles swallowed. The look in his dad’s eyes meant he was completely serious. It was the Sheriff look, the one he gave the criminals he arrested, the one he wore in court, the one he wore when he was beyond angry and into dangerous territory.  

He nodded twice. “Yea, dad. I promise.” 

“And if you EVER get a inkling to do ANYTHING remotely related to any of the above, please CALL SOMEONE before you do it. That way someone can get to you after calling me and I will personally drag your skinny ass out of whatever situation you are going to get yourself into.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Stiles spent about another five days confined to his bedroom before he was able to freely move around the house. His stitches came out a few days later, and he no longer needed assistance cleaning himself. And he was finally able to take a shower. He vowed never again to forfeit his ability to shower by himself. Falling back into a normal-like routine was pretty simple. Catching up on schoolwork really took up most of his time, but his teachers were understanding about the situation, even if they weren’t able to find out all the details. Werewolves are tight-lipped, especially a human they regarded as pack. Stiles was offered the chance to change, but he liked being human too much despite its inherent weaknesses. Small price to pay for not having to evade hunters like Allison’s family everywhere he went. Although when he really considered it, it was exactly what he was doing by running with the wolves.  

He was currently leaned over his biology text in his room, barely aware of the fading sunlight, when a knock at his window made him turn and come face to face with Derek. 

“I feel like making you a doggy window, since you just come and go as you please,” he quipped, turning back around to his book. If Derek got the joke, he didn’t let on.  

“I’m kind of busy right now; turns out getting shot and hospitalized makes for a lot of make up work.” He didn’t really want Derek to leave, but he really didn’t need the distraction. 

It didn’t sound like Derek had moved from his spot next to the window so Stiles turned around again. “Are you staying or going? Because if you’re staying, then you could help me study.”

Derek nodded once and moved to sit on Stiles’ bed. “I don’t have to stay. Scott said you’re looking a lot better so I figured I’d stop by. You were kind of out of it the last time.”

Stiles laughed. “Maybe a little, but I’m almost back to Stiles-normal now.” 

“I won’t let you put yourself in danger anymore, Stiles. You’re human, and that means you’re breakable.” There was a finality to Derek’s tone that scared Stiles a little bit, but not enough to not push against this ultimatum. He turned around completely in his chair. 

“My dad and I already had this discussion. No extra details about what I was doing out there exactly, but he said you were helping him and the other officers try to figure out who did it. I don’t feel like spending another second of my life in a hospital, but that doesn’t mean you can just make the executive decision to cut me out of the pack. 

“It’s not like I haven’t saved you a handful of times, and yeah, I might be human and breakable but that doesn’t mean I can’t help. I already promised my dad I wouldn’t do anything startlingly ridiculous like getting myself shot, but in my defense that wasn’t part of the original plan. I just wanted to case the place out; I didn’t know it had already been cased by other hunters. 

“And its not like you’re my dad, or my boyfriend, or even really my best friend, if we even are friends. You saved me, yes. But most times I get the impression you don’t want me around, but I want to be around because someone needs to do what I do for the pack. I don’t want to see you guys get taken apart if I can do something to stop it. So while I appreciate the sentiment, I don’t need you to mother-hen me anymore than I’ve already been mother-henned by everyone else.”

Stiles felt his face burning, but not out of anger, but because of the look Derek was giving him. It looked…raw. 

“Geez, Derek, I don’t mean I don’t like you; I don’t not like you. You’re a great guy when you’re not being broody, and the rest of the pack really looks up to you even though you try hard to keep everyone out. I know you can’t exactly be vulnerable since you’re the Alpha, but it never hurt to maybe talk about stuff out in the open rather than keeping it all bottled up.” Stiles felt a little uncomfortable with how Derek was still staring at him, but now his face seemed more relaxed and less pained, maybe a little sad and a little hopeful. Stiles flashed back to the last time Derek was his room and mentioned something about what he’d said before passing out.  

Derek shook his head. “You’re right, I’m not technically anybody you should be listening to given the circumstances. But I don’t not care about you Stiles. There are very few people in my life I can say I feel close you, wolves aside, and you’re on that list. I don’t want to feel responsible if something bad were to happen to you, something I could have prevented. But you’re so damned stubborn sometimes, Stiles.” Derek stood up and paced the room. “You just get this idea into your head and you can’t let it go. And it doesn’t matter what other people think or tell you, if its dangerous or if its suicidal. You just do it anyway. It feels like you don’t care about the people who love you, Stiles.” 

And that, that caught Stiles off guard. By a mile. Was Derek Hale saying that he LOVED him? The shock must have shown pretty clearly on his face because Derek went red in the face and the tips of his ears flushed along with his neck.  

“What?” Because that was clearly smooth. 

Derek shook his head again and started towards the window.

“No! Hey!” Stiles stood up too fast and got a little dizzy. “You don’t get to show up and have a moment and then bail. That’s not fucking fair!” He hobbled to the other side of the bed where Derek looked ready to spring out the window and grabbed his arm weakly, trying to keep him inside. This conversation wasn’t ov-. 

A hot mouth pressed against his. Big hands grabbed the side of his face and kept him there, a tongue dipped into his mouth and ran along his teeth. A low rumble permeated the air and Stiles realized he was gripping Derek’s hips with all the strength he could muster, and the sound was coming from Derek's chest. He started to get light-headed again from lack of oxygen when Derek pulled away and buried his face into Stiles’ neck, breathing in hard and making Stiles shake. 

“Goddamn you, Stiles.” Derek’s arms wrapped gently around his shaking body and held him even closer, still breathing in Stiles’ scent. 

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

The next day, Stiles felt out of sorts. He couldn’t remember if he’d brushed his teeth before leaving the house, and when he went into the bathroom he forgot why he was there. It took him two trips to remember his books on his desk, and another trek around the house trying to find his shoes. His dad looked at him funny when he left the house and he realized his shirt was on backwards. No one said anything about the beard burn the right side of his neck.  

School wasn’t any better. He actually made an effort to pay attention but his mind kept wandering to yesterday. Derek kissed him within an inch of his life, scented him for at least five minutes, kissed him AGAIN, and then disappeared. Stiles stood staring at his open window for about half an hour until his dad came home. The sound of the door closing snapped him out of it and he went back to his homework. Since then, Derek hadn’t texted him. Stiles didn’t need to feel shitty about anything. Derek kissed HIM, not the other way around. It felt like Derek was trying hard not to chew on his neck, but he supposed the beard burn made up for the lack of a suck mark. Thing is, Stiles wasn’t sure he’d have a problem being marked by Derek, despite the broodiness that would undoubtedly come with it. 

So it wasn’t a surprise at lacrosse practice when Stiles was benched, watching the other players and trying to pick out weaknesses with Coach, that he saw Derek standing in the tree-line staring hard at him. 

“Coach, I’m not feeling so hot. Think I’m a little dehydrated what with all the meds.” It wasn’t really a lie; the medication Stiles had to be on for the remainder of the week was giving him dry mouth no matter how much water he drank. And he really didn’t like sitting out in the sun for the sake of sitting out in the sun.  

Coach Finstock nodded slowly, not breaking contact with the players. “Do what you have to do, Stilinski. Just make sure you heal so you can get back out there.” 

Stiles picked up his bags and went to the locker room to put away the gear he didn’t use but Coach insisted he wear just to remind everyone he was still on the team. Derek was waiting for him on the bench across from his space, looking pathetic. Again. Stiles was going to get whiplash at this point.  

“This randomly showing up thing you’re doing is slowly growing on me. The part I have a little trouble with is the disappearing act,” he said, shoving his things into his locker. He wasn’t mad, but using a little force never hurt anyone.  

Derek waited for Stiles to turn back around before sliding over on the bench, looking at the empty space next to him. Stiles reluctantly took a seat and Derek swung his leg over, straddling the bench and moving into Stiles’ personal space. To further Stiles’ confusion, he wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into the V of his body. It was kind of an awkward hug, like the kind you give to someone you don’t really like but feel like you have to hug anyway.  

Stiles sat there, slightly amused and sort of worried at this sudden affection Derek was throwing in his direction. He didn’t really know if it was sympathy, pity, or genuine feelings. One thing Stiles noticed, and probably always knew but now was very acutely aware of, was how hot Derek was. Not ‘look at me being sexy in my tight jeans and fitted shirt’ hot, but ‘I’m probably running a fever and could melt the polar ice caps’ hot.

“Um, I feel coddled. I don’t really think you want me to think of you as a mother figure right now considering I still have some beard burn from yesterday.” Stiles felt Derek tense up before Stiles pushed away and clumsily swung his leg over the bench and positioning both his legs over Derek’s, effectively trapping him. “Now you can’t go anywhere without pushing me off. And you wouldn’t push someone who’s been shot at no matter how callous you think you are.”

Derek was still kind of tense, but once Stiles leaned in and pecked the edge of his lips, he felt the tense ease away and become replaced with a very cuddly wolf. Derek rubbed his face against Stiles’ neck again, reigniting the heated rash, except now he used his tongue to lick over his jugular, the hollow of his throat, his ear lobe. He felt the occasional nip and edged himself closer until Derek pulled Stiles fully into his lap. 

Very cuddly wolf became very aroused wolf, and very aroused wolf led to an equally aroused Stiles. And as much as Stiles REALLY wanted to keep grinding against Derek’s sizable package, he braced his hands against the broad shoulder and pushed back. 

“Why? What brought this on all of a sudden? Was it me almost dying? Because that’s kind of a shady reason to want to get into someone’s pants, considering I’ve been crushing on you pretty much since we met and you haven’t made a move until now so I don’t know what to think.” The fact he managed to get all of that out in one breath considering how winded he felt, and how scared he was of the response, made a small part of him feel a little better. Maybe.

Derek blinked once, then twice, and began to detach himself from Stiles. Stiles didn’t let him. 

“I know you’re stronger and could probably throw me off right now, but I deserve a response. Especially if this a pity thing and you’re just going to disappear once you think I have been made to feel better by your magic wolf powers of seduction.” Stiles was getting pissed off now. Hot and cold, passionwolf and sourwolf, not cool. Derek dropped his gaze but didn’t remove his hands from Stiles’ forearms where they had tried to take his hands off Derek’s shoulders. His thumbs started making small circles on the sensitive skin on Stiles’ wrists, the tips of his ears got pink. 

“You said ‘I love you’, the night I found you and took you to the hospital. You said ‘I love you’ and I didn’t know if you meant me or not.” 

Stiles was glad Derek didn’t look at him when he spoke, otherwise the look on Stiles’ face might have sent him running for the hills. That’s why Derek asked if he remembered. When he didn’t speak because his mental capacity dropped due to shock, Derek kept talking. 

“Then I showed up in your room and I was going to bring it up again but then you sounded like you could care less how I felt so I was going to leave and then you grabbed my arm and I kissed you and Stiles you smell so good I don’t know how I didn’t realize it before.” Derek’s grip on his arms got tighter, like he was trying to keep Stiles from bolting at his admission. This was the most vulnerable Stiles could remember seeing Derek without being physically injured. And he had no idea what to say.  

“Hey…” He tried to duck his head to catch Derek’s eyes. His cheeks were definitely pink.  

Derek raised his face slightly and Stiles took his chance. It was kind of awkward since Stiles hadn’t kissed anyone on the lips since the fourth grade and gotten cooties, and he had to duck his head to catch Derek’s lips. He felt the surprise and almost pulled back but then Derek’s hands moved from his wrists up his arms and to his shoulder blades, pulling him in and closing the distance between them. The breath left Stiles’ lungs, but who needed to breathe right now? Not Stiles, and evidently not Derek either who was practically trying to crawl into Stiles. 

As awesome as this turn of events was, Stiles had to clear the air. He broke the kiss and rested his forehead on Derek’s shoulder, not quite trusting himself to keep it together. 

“Before you say anything, I’m fine. Sort of. I did say ‘I love you’ the night you found me, but it wasn’t directed at you.” 

Of course Derek would tense up. 

“Let me finish before you freak out.” Stiles tightened his grip around Derek’s body. “I was listening to you run, and I started to fade out like I told you before. But then I saw my mom. She was just hovering over me, like she was waiting for something. She was smiling, like she used to whenever I did something ridiculous or amazing. When I was laying the ground wondering if I was going to die, all I could think about was my mom. Everything from the mundane until she was in the hospital. And I started to feel alone, because that’s how I was going to die: alone. And then I wondered if my mom felt that way when she was dying even though we were always with her, even though I was always with her whenever I wasn’t in school. If she hadn’t forced me to go I think I might have failed a grade, but when I came home it was always about her. I would do homework in her bed, explaining what I was doing even though she probably didn’t care.” 

Stiles felt hot tears soaking Derek’s clothed shoulder and held on even tighter.  

“So as I lay there thinking about how I was going to die before you found me, I saw her. And I knew she was going to be with me until the end so I wouldn’t be alone. And I told her I loved her because she’s my mom. She always thought of me before herself, and I don’t know why I feel guilty about her dying when it wasn’t my fault.”

If Stiles wasn’t sobbing before, he certainly was now. The last thing he wanted was the entire lacrosse team to see him in Derek’s lap crying like a baby about his mother. But right now he couldn’t bring himself to care, not when Derek tightened his grip around Stiles and made him feel small, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck. 

“Stiles…”

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

 

The lacrosse team didn’t walk in on them because Stiles managed to compose himself about two minutes before they walked in. He and Derek untangled themselves and everything went back to the status quo. 

 

On the way to Stiles’ jeep, he asked about the Alpha pack and the hunters. 

Derek sighed. “I put out some feelers and there’s a rumor about a rogue group moving east, but the Alpha pack has been quiet. I think the Argents being involved now has put them off for a little while. It’s one thing to deal with a wolf pack and their adopted human-“

Stiles couldn’t hold back the grin he felt break out across his face. “Adopted human?” 

Sourwolf shook his head and grinned. “Shut up and let me finish. Dealing with a wolf pack and one obnoxious-“ 

“HEY!” 

“-Lovable human, but dealing with a wolf pack teamed with a family of hunters is another story. They may be Alphas, but even they have their weaknesses. The Argents are human but they have a skill set based in the destruction of the supernatural. I don’t think we’ll be hearing from the Alpha pack for a while. But when they do finally come around again, we’ll be more prepared and you’ll be tucked away somewhere out of harm’s way. Unless you want the bite and then you can tag along.” The wolfish grin on Derek’s face as he stepped closer to Stiles did nothing to keep his dick from getting hard at the thought of Derek biting him. No. Bad. No wolf Stiles.  

“Hah! If you bit me I’d probably end up an Omega with my luck in these things.” Stiles tossed his bags into the back. “You want a ride or-?” 

He barely had time to turn before Derek was on him, nose firmly buried in Stiles’ neck again, breathing in so hard Stiles felt all the hair on his body stand up. He opened his mouth to protest the very public scenting (which he was sort of ok with but at the same time SCHOOL PROPERTY) when Derek began rutting against him. 

“Stiles, Stiles… _Don’t say things like that_. I have a hard enough time not wanting to claim you now, but if you were an Omega… _my Omega._ ” 

Stiles did remember reading something about Alphas and Omegas and Betas and the whole structure, but all of that flew from his mind because Derek wanted to _claim_ him? 

“Are you objectifying me?” 

“Are you really asking me questions right now?” 

“What are you going to do to stop me?”

Derek paused and pulled back just enough so his red eyes took up all of Stiles’ line of sight. “I’m not going to take advantage of you, Stiles. But you have to want this, I don’t want to force you, not after what you-“ 

Stiles clamped a hand down across Derek’s mouth. “We will not speak of that in public places. Not because I’m embarrassed or anything but because I don’t talk about my mom for reasons. Kind of like you don’t talk about your family. Maybe one day we’ll get to the point where we can openly talk about it and hold each other and do the comfort thing when one or both of us feels really shitty, but now isn’t the time. I love everything you’ve done, and I can’t believe you didn’t run for the hills weeks ago because I’m not exactly a catch.” 

Derek’s brow furrowed and Stiles felt his mouth open so he plowed through. 

“Well I mean I AM a catch, but I didn’t think I could catch you, well technically _you_ caught _me_ sort of but it was more of a carry because I was unconscious and DID YOU LICK MY HAND?!” Stiles flung his hand back and hit the side view mirror. “Ouch!” He cradled it against his chest trying to look pathetic as he watched Derek’s shoulders shake with restrained laughter. 

“Giggle, I dare you. I will never ever let you live it down. And I will tell everyone that Derek ‘Sourwolf’ Hale _giggles_ like a little girl.”

Derek didn’t remove the offending smile from his face, but he did take Stiles’ bruising hand and kiss the knuckles gently before kissing Stiles’ pouting lips again. 

“I can’t think of anyone else’s unconscious body I would have rather found and carried more than yours.”

Stiles rolled his eyes despite the flush he felt heating up his face. “That was so romantic. Are we going to have a moment? Is this a moment right now?” 

Derek didn’t say anything. He leaned in again and kissed the corner of Stiles’ mouth, then his cheekbone, his eyebrow, the tip of his nose, and then again on the lips. “I want to have more than just one moment with you, Stiles.” 

For once, Stiles was rendered absolutely speechless.  

And that was ok. For now. 

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Several months later…

 

“DEREK! COME ON! I’ve been laying here waiting for you to walk into the room and you’re still IN THE KITCHEN! What is so intriguing IN THE KITCHEN when you could be making me org-?” 

He screeched to a halt at the sight of a fully clothed Scott, Erica, and Isaac in the kitchen with a fully clothed Derek. And he was in boxer briefs. With an erection.  

Awkward did not even begin to cover all the shades of awkward occurring in the kitchen. Stiles would probably never be able to walk around less than fully clothed ever again.  

Derek went bright red, eyes wide and eyebrows becoming one with his hairline.  

“Um…” Isaac shifted uncomfortably. “We should go? Maybe?”

The look on Erica’s face was lecherous to say the least, and Scott looked pained. 

Stiles whirled around and went back into the bedroom, throwing himself under the comforter determined never to emerge. 

He didn’t really register the sounds of the door closing and the bedroom door opening until he felt a weight on the bed.  

“No. I’m still recovering from the all kinds of awkward that just happened. Especially considering that I hadn’t really gotten around to telling any of them.” 

Derek sighed, but the amused sigh, not the exasperated sigh. Yes, Stiles catalogued Derek’s sighs.  

“They kind of already know because you smell like me now virtually all the time.”  

Stiles mentally kicked himself in the head. Of course they knew, the whole smell thing. It actually explained all the looks he got from the pack whenever he was in the general vicinity with any of them. And Erica’s positively lewd faces in his direction when Derek was around.  

“I can’t believe this is my life.”

Derek slid under the comforter and molded himself to Stiles’ back, rocking his hips forward, making Stiles very aware of the thick erection riding the crack of his ass.  

“Believe it,” he whispered against the back of his neck. “It was kinda hot, you marching into the kitchen, virtually naked, smelling like sex, like ME. Now there’s no doubt as to who you belong to.” He bit down on his trapezoidal muscle, causing Stiles to let out high pitched whimper and grind his hips back against Derek.  

“You could’ve _(groan)_ said something…” 

“Saying something now,” Derek responded. “And I believe you said something about orgasms I could be giving you?”

If Stiles came in his underwear a few moments later, it wasn’t his fault in the slightest.

**Author's Note:**

> I made up a mini soundtrack for the songs I listened to while writing this over the course of 2-3 days.  
> Fjogur Piano- Sigur Ros  
> Wires- Athlete (Title comes from the song)  
> Howl- Florence and the Machine  
> Rada- Thomas Bergersen  
> Sundrenched World- Joshua Radin  
> Teeth- Lady Gaga  
> Beautiful- Athlete  
> Arms- Christina Perri  
> Cape of Storms (piano version)- Hyde  
> Follow You Down To The Red Oak Tree- James Vincent McMorrow  
> Boats & Birds- Gregory and the Hawk
> 
> They don't have to be listened to in any particular order but I tried to arrange them so that the songs transitioned with the story. Fjogur Piano is more of an overture, and Boats & Birds could be considered the credits. Everything else goes along with it. The two sentences at the top aren't part of the Wires song, but they occurred to me as I was listening to it, and they are what sparked this entire venture into the world of Sterek.


End file.
